Cornwall and Redfern Mysteries 2-Book Bundle Read Online Free PDF Page A

night.”
    The money was slipping through my fingers. “What if you smoke, you know … before we set out?” I was already a blackmailer, so moonlighting as a drug pusher seemed an attainable career goal.
    â€œI’d have to smoke steady from now right through until tomorrow night to get mellow enough for that. Then I’d be too stoned to talk, let alone think. And you need your wits about you to negotiate with that succubus.”
    â€œThere’s only one thing left. We’ll go over on my motorcycle. Wait, let me finish.” But he whimpered and wandered away in the direction of his solarium. I followed and found him draped over his concrete pot. I swear he was talking to Thor.
    I looked inside and said, “Hey, Glory’s spathe is starting to turn pink on the inside, too.”
    In the few hours I had been gone, Thor appeared to have shot up several inches.
    Dougal straightened. “It is? Are you sure?”
    I nodded. “Her spadix might be a little taller, but not much.” I was tossing off those horticultural terms like nobody’s business.
    He licked his lips. I knew he tasted the victory of pollinating such a rare plant, a victory that was just out of reach because of a chemical imbalance in his brain.
    â€œHow long would it take to get there on your motorcycle?”
    â€œStart to finish? About sixty seconds. And I have a spare helmet.”
    â€œOkay, then, I’ll try.” He reached out toward the unfurling spathe, but stopped short of touching it. “For my Thor, I’ll try.”
    I had to bite the inside of my lip. “I’m sure Thor is grateful. Your country would be grateful if it knew of your courage.”
    â€œShut up and go home.”
    â€œJust one more thing. I almost forgot.”
    He looked at me, his eyes narrowed. “What?”
    â€œGlory wants you to bring Simon with you. For some reason, she seems to miss that bird.”
    â€œSimon! Are you sure? What’s she up to? African greys only bond with one person, and that’s me.” He went over to the cage and peered in at the sleeping parrot.
    Simon opened one dark eye and said in Dougal’s voice, “Gimme some weed.”
    â€œAre you letting that bird smoke marijuana? Because I think that’s even more illegal than smoking it yourself.”
    â€œOf course not. He’s a parrot. He used to just repeat what he heard, but now that he’s older, he can make up his own sentences, using words he’s learned.”
    â€œRight. Anyway, Glory wants to see him, so he’s coming with us.”
    â€œHow will we get him there? He can’t ride on my shoulder. He’ll be traumatized, or else he’ll fall off and be killed.”
    â€œWe’ll stuff him in the saddlebag.”
    Both Dougal and Simon squawked so loudly at that idea, I had to think of another way. “I know. You can put him inside your jacket. How scared can he get in less than a minute?” He might poop himself silly, but that was Dougal’s problem.
    â€œIf I fall off, he’ll be squashed.”
    â€œIf that happens, a squashed parrot will be the least of your troubles.”
    â€œSeeing Glory again will probably finish him off anyway,” Dougal grumbled, but I pretended not to hear.
    I checked Dougal’s fridge one more time for leftovers and acquired a lamb stew meant for his next day’s lunch and a carton of milk past expiry date. Stashing these treasures next to the lasagna, I zipped on my black leather jacket and buckled my helmet.
    As I came alongside the cemetery on my way home, I noticed three police cars with their lights whirling and several figures milling around in the shadows. I slowed for a better look. Whatever was happening would be all over town by morning, and when I stopped at Tim Hortons before my house showing, I would hear the news. I hoped no gravestones had been desecrated by vandals.
    I cruised slowly through